Crabby Wednesday

The fam is a bunch of bitches.

You know how I have been making all my own baked goods?  I mentioned I was making brownies, and Ben said "Make sure you use a box.  I don't want you to mess them up-- I want Betty Crocker."  What an asshole.

So, I made 2 batches-- one from a Betty Crocker box and one from scratch.  In a blind taste test, both of my (asshole) kids picked the box.  Harry said, "I like this one.  It takes like a real brownie.  This one," he said, indicating the one made with LOVE, "Tastes like those muffins I had at hot lunch the other day."  Those muffins?  Were made of beets.

Hmph.


Speaking of assholes, Cooper (OM-G-- cussing about babies cracks me up) slept for 12 hours straight the night before last, waking for exactly 8 minutes to eat around 2 am.  Then, last night, he woke up at 9:30, 11:30, 12:30, 3-4:30, 6, and then finally at 7:30. The 3-4:30 stretch nearly killed me.  I would nurse him, put him in his crib with his pacifier firmly in his cry hole, stumble back to bed, throw myself on my pillow, an drift back to sleep when his squawks through the monitor would jerk me awake.  I repeated this pattern for 90 minutes, adding handfuls of animal crackers on my way back to bed, which is GREAT for the weight loss.

On that note, a visiting scholar from China who saw me last semester in the course I direct is sitting in on my rhetorical criticism class this term, and she said to me after class, "You don't look so fat." I think the nuance was lost in translation.

Bouncing: